Hope Floats

If Thursday is the new Friday, then Preview Thursday is the new First Friday.

Why battle crowds when I can enjoy the new art shows the way they used to be when the artwalk first started?

No jostling, no strollers, no inability to take in a piece of art in from across the room.

I began at Ghostprint Gallery, natch, to check out Sterling Hundley's exhibit, "Blue Collar/White Collar."

The mixed media pieces were completely captivating: multi-dimensional, smart and full of familiar faces.

With deeper pockets, I could have purchased works depicting Herbie Hancock, Torie Amos, Marat Sade, Bojangles, or my particular favorite, Shakespeare (oh, how I wish my art budget was bigger!).

Johnny Cash was not for sale.

"My Lady Richmond" was especially compelling, containing images and one person's story of how he came to VCU and was sucked in by the capital city.

It's happened to more than a few of us.

Daniel Day-Lewis had been invited to tonight's preview, but his assistant had called to say he couldn't make it.

Our loss, I'm sure.

Once a friend joined me at the preview, I had company when I went to check out some of the other galleries.

Quirk Gallery's "Sparkle 7: Organism" show was their annual jewelry show.

While I can admire the pieces for art's sake, my non-existent interest in jewelry means that a lot of it washes over me.

Ooh, sparkly things. What else you got?

Yes, I realize that this makes me a poor excuse for a female.

From there we went to 1708 Gallery for "Push, Pull, Resist," a show of inflatable sculptures using reclaimed maritime materials.

Here I actually regretted that it wasn't First Friday so more people could have been there.

Many of the pieces required human interaction to do their thing. A motion sensor inflated a piece. Blowing into a windsock made cloth-rollers inflate and turn.

With enough people, the art would be endlessly in motion. Not so tonight, but something to look forward to tomorrow evening.

Friend and I parted ways after that. I was off for a bite to eat and he was in search of a restful evening after a late night and early morning.

It reminded me of a girlfriend's statement at Ghostprint tonight. "It's not age that make you act old. It's getting up early."

My destination was Carytown Bistro to meet another friend. His boyfriend is out of town so we were meeting for dinner.

We walked into a wine tasting, and at $5.00 for six one-ounce pours, a steal of a deal.

The event had been emblazoned online as "Winos Welcome," although that probably says more about the poster than the tasting.

Except for some of the seating having changed, the place is little different from its days as Bin 22 and the menu is even simpler.

Ever since I'd snacked on a banana during the movie earlier today, my friend (who'd also been at that event), had been craving banana.

He jumped on The King panini, a grilled sandwich of peanut butter and banana.

I was fine with a BLT on an everything bagel, pleased that the "L" portion was actually mesclun and not iceberg.

We savored the tasting before, during and after our sandwiches, satisfied that there was no rushing by our server.

Another friend came in to do the tasting and brought with him a red wine-loving musician, which immediately turned all talk to music.

Which Elvis Costello songs are worth covering? What makes a musician prickly? What's a good first venue for a transplanted musician from L.A.? Which folk acts put a cocaine-addled listener to sleep despite the drugs?

I knew the answers to none of those.

And honestly, with a glass of Barbera and a Kit-Kat bar from the bowl of leftover Halloween candy on the bar, it was tough to imagine that there might really be a Ben Folds mix I could like, despite assurances to the contrary.

But as with all things, I remain ever hopeful.